


flower crown

by V_e_s_a_n_u_s



Series: Whumptober 2018 [23]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Broken Bones, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Solavellan, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-08 01:38:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16419974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/V_e_s_a_n_u_s/pseuds/V_e_s_a_n_u_s
Summary: Day number 26 of #whumptober! Prompt today was broken ribs!Solas doesn't want to be any trouble so hides an injury from her, but nothing gets past Lavellan (well, nothing except the major plotlines that she doesn't know about yet but hush hush)





	flower crown

“Vhenan,” Ellana sang, a bright smile on her face as she skipped into the room. If the vallaslin adorning her face didn’t scream Dalish, then the flower crown on her head and the one intertwined between her long fingers did. The one in her hair was made of pale blue petalled flowers, and the one in her hands was a rather peculiar soft green, both flowers she searched the whole of Skyhold ( _and_ most of the surrounding mountains) to find.

Her shining green eyes landed on Solas on the sofa pushed to the edge of the room. He was sat up against the armrest, legs extended on the cushions, eyes shut. Ellana had seen him sleep and it did look like a rather awkward position for the elf, but he did seem to be sound asleep, so she didn’t think much of it. Instead, she crept over and placed the garland on top of his head like a headband and pressed a soft kiss on the top of his head.

Ellana decided she wanted to wake until Solas woke up, to see what he thought of the crown she’d made him. So, she turned his large (and rather heavy) chair around as quietly as possible and sat down at it, dropping her head against the back to look upwards.

She could hear the hubbub of everyone’s evening routines on the floors above them as she gazed up to the rafters. She could see the odd person, leaning their back against the railings or peering over the edge, before catching her gaze and quickly moving away. She could hear Dorian, railing on against what she assumed to be one of the men staffing the library, about the categorisation of books and whatnot, as he had once done to her. She smiled at that. If she really, _really_ listened, she could hear the soft cries of crows in the very top floor, just over the very muted sound of Leliana’s voice. She couldn’t make out _what_ her spymaster was saying, but given how intense she was, she couldn’t believe it was good news.

That thought made Leliana smile. Not even a week ago, Cullen told Ellana that he’d met the spymaster, before she was who she was today. He said she was kind and thoughtful and, although he made Ellana _swear_ to not tell anyone, he said Leliana sang. A bard, or something like that. He said it was beautiful. Ellana struggled to believe that, given the way her spymaster acted now. It was difficult to imagine the girl singing and dancing and _not_ spending every moment of every day plotting how to kill people.

It was an interesting thought, however. She began to get lost in her thoughts, staring up at the dark ceiling so many floors away from her. She barely noticed when Solas shifted. Her eyes flitted down though when he groaned in his sleep.

She cocked her head at him, and then suddenly the elf was waking up blinking his eyes blearily, and turning towards her. He gave a smile, “Vhenan,” he said, voice croaky with sleep. He coughed once and winced, “What are you doing?”

“Just thinking,” she grinned, “And I came to give you a present.”

Solas raised an eyebrow, not moving from where he was, and the elf pointed at her head to show him what she meant. He chuckled, wincing again, and this time Ellana noticed, but Solas was speaking over her thoughts, “Very sweet. And I suppose I have one too?”

She smiled at him, “Naturally,” she waited for him to take it off and have a look at it. He didn’t. She pouted a little, involuntarily: she _had_ spent an awful lot of time making them, “Don’t you want to look at it?”

“I…” Solas’ eyes flitted away and then back, “Of course.” He made to rearrange himself on the sofa, bringing his legs off the cushions slowly, pushing himself up. He was flinching in pain, breath coming in short gasps through clenched teeth. It was obvious to Ellana that he was trying to cover up the fact he was in pain. What she didn’t know was _why._ The elf lifted his left hand to the crown, removing it, the other coming to rest across his abdomen, almost like a shield. He looked at the chain of flowers with adoration and a small smile. “It’s beautiful. Thank you, vhenan.”  
Ellana wasn’t just going to move past it, though. Solas was in pain. Solas was _hurting._ She wanted to help.

“What’s the matter?” She asked, brows furrowed and analysing his face.

Solas sighed, “It’s nothing, vhenan, don’t trouble yourself with it.”  
Ellana cocked an eyebrow, “Do you really think that’s going to stop me?”

“I…” Solas paused, watching her, “I suppose not,” he said, “But really, it’s nothing.”

“If it’s bothering you, then it _is_ something. And I want to know about it.”

The older elf sighed. He reached with his left hand again, lifting his tunic up, gingerly moving his other arm out of the way as he exposed his side.

“By the Creators! Solas, that is _not_ ‘nothing’!” Ellana gasped in surprise, standing up in a flash.

Across his pale, freckled side, there was a large, purple bruise spanning most of his ribcage, and an abnormal lump protruding from beneath the skin in the middle of it. It looked painful, and from the way Solas was grimacing just from leaning at the slight angle, it must have been.

Ellana was beside him in an instant, “Solas, what _happened?”_

“It was just in the last fight,” Solas sighed again, dropping the shirt back down, “One of the Red Templars threw me into a wall,” he looked down, “It’s silly.”

“No, it’s not. Solas, look at me,” she paused, waiting until she did as he said, “It’s _not.”_ She nodded sincerely when he inclined his head gently, and then she realised something, “Wait, Solas, the last time I took you out on a mission was on Monday. You’ve been like this for  _four days?”_

“It’s healing.”  
“Solas, I think you’ve broken some ribs, we need to get you to a healer,” she continued, muttering under her breath angrily, “Four days, _Creators,_ why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s nothing, really. I’m fine,” Solas insisted calmly.

 _“Really?”_ Ellana said, shaking her head in disbelief, “Do you _really_ think I believe that? Tell me it doesn’t hurt to breathe.”  
“I’m fine.”

“Tell me your side isn’t throbbing right now.”

“I’m _fine.”_

“Okay, prove it. Take a deep breath.” Ellana challenged, eyes scanning his face.

Solas was proud. He didn’t want to admit he needed help. He also knew that if he did that it would be agony. He was torn, and it showed on his face.

“You see?” Ellana said, more softly now, caring, “Look, all I want to do is help you. I love you, Solas. I don’t want to see you hurt. I don’t like seeing you hurt,” she paused for a moment, letting it sink in, “So will you go to the healers with me?”

“Okay,” The elf sighed softly, looking down, continuing slowly.

Ellana grinned at him, “Come on then, let’s get you fixed up,” she said, standing, offering him a hand.

Solas took it with a smile, “Thank you, vhenan.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! Leave a comment or a kudos if you did! :)


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